


catch you in all the games we’ve played

by softtofustew



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, SungJaePil, briwoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-03 22:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17292365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softtofustew/pseuds/softtofustew
Summary: for someone who wants clarity, dowoon finds his relationship with brian slightly ambiguous. they’re not exactly boyfriends, but they’re not exactlyjustfriends when brian kisses the daylight out of him every other day. it’s fine, dowoon thinks. they’ll find their ways with each other. or the one where dowoon and brian are friends who kiss — or are, perhaps, more than just that.





	catch you in all the games we’ve played

**Author's Note:**

> title & song inspo from if you don’t know by 5SOS // typed the first scene back when i was in pyeongchang skiing, so the resort and cable car is actually legitimate. and yes, dowoon has a lip ring, if you squint hard enough. also. my first briwoon! hope you enjoy it :)

for someone like dowoon, he's always wanted clarity on everything he does, everything he feels, everything he thinks. he's always fishing for some sort of feedback on his homework assignments, his drumming performances, his voice. he's always been like that, and it's always been like that, for years now.

then _again_ , the current setting begs to differ with his preferences: hotel room 511 somewhere in pyeongchang, on the bed facing the television flickering with the anime he's supposed to watch, his best friend brian laid sprawled across the bed beside him, arm looped lazily around his shoulder. outside, the wintry wind howls against the window, rattling it, the sound of it drowned out by the voices ringing out from the television. there's no context to this, absolutely none - until brian leans in towards dowoon's side.

and even though it's been two weeks - or, to be exact, sixteen days, but who's counting? - of this, of brian leaning in to whisper sweet nothings into the shell of dowoon's ear, of brian, his strong, broad, business major hyung, tracing circles along dowoon's thigh, dowoon still isn't clear about the situation. every night his mind can't seem to wrap around the causations and consequences of whatever this is he's having with brian. every night, his mind submits to whatever this is he's having with brian. every morning, he wakes up with an uneasy mixture of calmness and regret, of whatever _this_ is he's having with brian.

tonight is different. half-excitement, half-fear.

the anime is a blur before dowoon's eyes. it's not exactly helping that brian's already begun leaning in, his lips hovering over the shell of his reddening ear. it's a routine, the way brian whispers into dowoon's ear about how hot he is, how cute he is when he's blushing - a routine he never fails to start and never fails to fluster dowoon. eventually, the television is clicked off and dowoon's vision is swimming amongst all the heat building up in his head.

“dowoonie, look at hyung,” brian murmurs against his ear, warm breath fanning over the left of his face. slowly, the younger glimpses up and watches the other's eyes carefully, the way the irises seem to twinkle and sparkle with some sort of vigour. “look at me, baby.”

the nickname sends shivers down dowoon's spine, the way the older's voice is so gravelly and low and coherently sexy. when their lips meet, it's like the first time all over again, warm hand against his cheek, lips pressed against lips. it sends sparks exploding in dowoon's gut.

tonight is different. somehow, someway.

dowoon's heart beats so loud against his chest, he swears brian hears it. he makes no sound, however, instead kissing along the younger's neckline. shirts are discarded, followed by pants, underwear. kisses are exchanged, hands grazing skin, eyes exploring and staring.

tonight is different. they've never gone so far, and tonight is scary and different and exhilarating. from the way brian murmurs quiet nothings into dowoon's ears, to the way the sound of skin against skin clouds every other judgement in dowoon's mind. the twisting in his gut tightens and tightens and tightens with every movement, every soft sound; from brian's guttural grunts to dowoon's breathy sighs. the knot in his stomach hurts so much when brian leans down, pressing closer until they can't get any closer. the knot unravels, bursting into a million fragments as dowoon sighs into the pillow in his hands, the knot finally loosening and falling away at the edges as his whole body jerks forward from all the pent up emotions, the pent up pleasure unfurling in his gut.

tonight is different. tonight, instead of giggling and searching for a box of tissues to clean them both up, instead of tucking dowoon goodnight and joking and fucking around like he always does, brian pushes one last time before sighing shakily in dowoon's ear, his own self unravelling and letting go. it's only four words, but words dowoon has been dreading since the first time brian kissed dowoon under the dim lights of the hallway. “i love you, dowoonie.”

it's a rush of words, all in a breath. dowoon freezes, the cloud over his head clearing up, parting and making way for his train of thoughts to continue. he stays silent the whole time brian lets go, pushing off and away. he stays silent the whole time.

he realises he doesn't say it back, and is about to part his lips and genuinely say he loves brian back when he hears a quiet snore ripping through the silence. dowoon releases a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding in. regret frames his face as he lets his eyelids fall, lets the night's events fall all over him.

 

—

 

_rewind: sixteen days ago_

another disclaimer for anybody who’s willing to spare an ear: dowoon’s not a party-goer. he’s not one to open his mouth and begin a conversation, but somehow he’s garnered the friendship of four other boys about his age all throughout high school and into college now. the only reason he’s currently in his friend wonpil’s bathroom tugging at the collar of his shirt (or, perhaps, the lack of it) lies in the mischievous grin of his friend waiting outside.

“are you sure it’s supposed to be… i don’t know, translucent?” dowoon pinches a nipple through the fabric of the tee wonpil’s lent to him.

from outside the bathroom door, wonpil shouts back, “yes! now stop fussing and get out already. brian’s going to burn us at the altar if we get any later.”

ah, yes. of course. brian, business major hyung. strong, broad, attractive, and kinda-maybe-perhaps another very minor reason why dowoon allows himself to get tricked. (“it’s called _bribing_ , woonie,” wonpil protested a half hour ago when he shoved the fabric into dowoon’s outstretched arms. “you wear this, and you get yourself a guy or two tonight.”) sighing, dowoon runs a hand through his hair, greasy from the probable tonne of hair gel wonpil slicked along his scalp prior to his dressing disaster. slowly, he pries the bathroom door open.

when wonpil peers up from his phone, he gasps dramatically. “oh. my god. you look so good, i would _drop_ sungjin and jae for you,” he gushes, squealing. he even stomps his feet on the floor in excitement.

rolling his eyes, dowoon mumbles, “as if you would.” he’s decked out in this translucent white top tucked into a pair of skinny jeans, tighter than they should be, courtesy of wonpil and his smaller frame. he’s got his own jean jacket thrown over the ensemble, and converses to pull it all off. “i feel like these jeans are some sort of second skin i’m supposed to shed.”

“ _relax_ , dowoonie,” wonpil sighs, striding over to smooth out the wrinkles along dowoon’s jean jacket. “it’s only for a couple of hours. you will make heads turn the second you strut into brian’s house, make everyone fall aaaaallll over you - i even asked brian to book a room in advance just for you and whoever you get it on with tonight-”

“-roger that, whatever,” dowoon sighs, pocketing his phone and wallet where they had been tossed carelessly onto wonpil’s unmade bed. “now we go.”

again: dowoon’s not a party-goer. which explains why for most of the night he eyes the surge of dancing people shimmying to a 80’s-style song about reminiscing of the past in brian’s living room, courtesy of the fact that his parents have flown across the globe for a meeting, just prior to the end of their mid-terms. it’s a reason for everyone to glug down the stash of beer brian’s kept in the pantry, and for everyone to get it on with everyone else. it’s barely ten and there’s already a couple dry-humping on brian’s patched-up couch. disappointing.

he leans against the counter, a solo cup of chilled beer in his hand, until jae in all his drunken state staggers over to him. “yooooo, dowoonie! you are looking fucking fine tonight,” he hollers a little too loudly, attracting unwanted attention from a gaggle of girls close by. “who’s the lucky lady? lucky gentleman? ladies _and_ gentlemen?”

dowoon shakes his head timidly. he can already feel the tips of his ears burning. “nah, this is all just part of wonpil’s plan or other-”

“-speaking of him,” jae interrupts, elbowing dowoon in the rib. “where’s my man? i wanna tell him something.” which, of course, translates to _i wanna tell him a lame dad joke i heard just now and then we’ll probably rut up against each other in the hallways until sungjin decides to walk by and see us._

“i think he’s in the bathroom,” dowoon replies nonchalantly, before watching jae give him a lazy grin, a slap on the back and stumbling into the next corridor. he sighs, takes a sip of the drink in his hand. the rest of the party-goers whizzes by before his eyes in a series of colours.

truth be told, brian’s house is a sort of mansion he hasn’t been to in a while, for he wanders down long hallways after taking a piss in the bathroom. he tries wrenching open a door, only to find his very naked three friends all in one bed. to be frank, he’s walked in on them too many times for it to be normal, so he just yells a “sorry!” before slamming the door close and swivelling around,

only to encounter said business major hyung.

“oh, hey dowoon,” brian greets him casually. dowoon actually hasn’t seen the other the whole night, and considering it’s eleven at night now, he presumes his friend is now drunk. his assumption’s probably correct, because brian slumps against the plastered wall, grinning widely at him. “you look like you just walked into a threesome.”

“if you consider jae giving head to wonpil who’s kissing sungjin on a queen-sized bed a threesome, yeah, well,” dowoon answers blatantly, which makes brian laugh. his shoulders heave with his drunk laughter, perhaps a little too much for a simple statement like that.

“well, they should know to lock the door by now,” brian comments lightly. his smile never fades, radiant even under the dim lights. it’s only then that dowoon notices the untucked shirt and ripped jeans on the other. he tries not to let his eyes linger on the other’s shoulders, but. oh well.

it’s also then that he realises brian is, in fact, not so discreetly checking him out too, and what the _fuck_ is this? brian’s grin widens even more, dimples obvious on his cheeks. “whose shirt is that? that’s certainly not yours,” he states matter-of-factly, albeit drawling on the syllables a little too much.

“yeah. it’s wonpil’s,” he answers quietly.

brian cocks his head. “well. you look real good in it.”

if dowoon were staring at a mirror, he’d be sure his ears are the colour of a ripe tomato right about now. “well, uh, thanks-”

“-actually, no,” brian purses his lips, slick with whatever alcohol he’s indulged on this evening. “you always look good, actually. i don’t know. you just look… good, i guess.” he’s rambling, a drunk habit dowoon’s accustomed to, especially after that one summer party the older had glugged down too much beer and thus begun a long rant on how dogs are better than cats, his head on dowoon’s lap. (he suspects that’s around the time he developed feelings for the other, but it might’ve been the talk of dogs).

“thanks, i guess?” dowoon answers awkwardly. the atmosphere around them reeks of awkwardness. hell, dowoon looks really awkward here, hand gripping the doorknob to his friends’ threesome so tight his knuckles are ghost white. maybe he should get going. he really should get going, but then brian’s leaning in a little. it cages dowoon in a little, pressed against the wall.

brian tilts his head the other way. “this is real random, but can i kiss you?” he mumbles.

dowoon’s eyes fly wide open. “what-”

“-i don’t know. your lips look really red right now. and veeeerrrryyyy kissable,” he slurs, grinning. his eyes are the shape of crescents, and a very huge weakness of dowoon’s. this is bad, very very bad.“can hyung kiss you, dowoonie?”

this is weird. dowoon should most definitely get going now, or perhaps slap himself out of this very weird dream. the older has gone rogue before, both when he’s drunk and sober, but never so rogue to just ask to _kiss_ dowoon, for god’s sake. this is borderline _absurd_. he’s probably even stupider to nod his head slowly and part his lips for a “yes” - but, oh well.

he’ll blame the chilled beer.

kissing brian is pretty different from other times. usually, dowoon doesn’t get around a lot, but when he does, he’s always the one initiating the kiss, the one who has a hold of things, the one who has his feet firmly planted on the ground. kissing brian is different, because for one, dowoon is technically kissing the biggest crush he’s harboured for the past three years. to say his heart is bursting into pieces is a little of an understatement at the moment.

a hand in dowoon’s hair, a hand on dowoon’s hip, anchoring him well. dowoon’s knees almost buckle under him from the intensity of it all. their lips are slick and wet from alcohol, and dowoon can taste the very soju brian’s drunk, the very taste of saliva on brian’s breath. he closes his eyes shut as he runs his arms around brian’s broad, broad shoulders. his back is pressed against the wall, but that’s fine, because brian begins licking into dowoon’s mouth, and it’s all it takes for him not to unravel right then and there.

he makes these soft noises into brian’s mouth, from the way brian slides his tongue along the lip ring on dowoon’s lower lip, to the way brian slips the hand on his hip under the thin fabric of the shirt and beginning to trace circles all along dowoon’s abdomen. the second they pull back, just for a second to stare at each other, dowoon leans in again.

the taste of the other is suddenly so addictive, a taste dowoon has been yearning for throughout almost the entire time he’s been in love with brian. when their tongues touch, the heat in his gut intensifies so much he releases a low groan into the other’s mouth.

“look at you, dowoonie,” brian whispers against their lips. “god, you’re so hot, you know that?”

dowoon whimpers at the comment, wrapping his arms tighter around brian’s shoulders. there’s a rumbling of laughter against dowoon’s chest, and it’s then when he realises that their chests are against each other, that he can hear the insistent _badumbadumbadum_ of brian’s heart against his own. ohhhh, shit.

“i’ve been looking for you tonight, and you look so hot in this shirt, you know that?” brian mumbles, before beginning a trail of wet kisses all along dowoon’s jawline. dowoon involuntarily tilts his head up for a better angle, a silent invitation for more kisses along the skin there. “i’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, you know that? hyung’s going to kiss you a lot tonight.”

dowoon gasps when brian snakes arms around his waist and hoists him up, hands cupping his ass. “this okay, dowoonie baby?” brian murmurs below him.

“y-yeah,” dowoon breathes shakily, because all of a sudden the blood is rushing to his head - too many things to process, too many things not processing. brian licks all along the skin of stomach exposed by his untucked shirt, all the while stumbling down the corridor and shoving another door open with one hand. dowoon’s not entirely sure whether to be turned on or envious by how strong the other is.

that night changes a lot of things for them. one, and definitely on top of the list, is that dowoon gets probably the best head he’s ever gotten in his eighteen years of living. two, brian is more than friend, more than a hyung to him than ever. three, dowoon begins an endless landslide down his turmoil of pleasure and ultimately, regret, for the next sixteen days of his life.

 

—

 

because, well, they’re not boyfriends. dowoon realises that from the back slaps he gets from brian, the teasing jokes he gets from brian, the bro fists and jabs and “what the hell, dude?” he gets from brian. but they’re not exactly just friends either, because on some nights brian will call him over for binge-watching their favourite animes, which ultimately ends up with the both of them making out on brian’s bed, or some mornings brian will show up in front of dowoon’s dorm room to walk him over to his classes, greeting him with kisses to last a lifetime.

it’s become a routine, a routine dowoon fears because not only is it something they haven’t labelled, but it’s also become a routine dowoon has become too accustomed too. and it’s not exactly ever so normal for you to become accustomed to your crush sexting you and sending you nudes for you to jerk off to when he’s not even your boyfriend. (dowoon tries not to refer to it as friends-with-benefits, but as the days wear on, he’s become frightfully accustomed to mentally referring it to that godforsaken term he dreads.)

 

— 

 

and the worst thing? when they’re sated from jerking each other off or giving head or simply kissing each other to exhaustion, brian and his brotherly bravado still cleans them up while cracking a joke, still tucks dowoon into bed or sees him off with a nonchalant grin, still thumps him on the head with permutations of his name. _woonie, dowoonie, stupidie dowoonie._

it’s the worst thing, because dowoon can’t help but feel like he’s still stuck in a firm box, brian staring at him from the outside - close enough to touch, but not close enough to see just how much dowoon loves him in the way he supposes brian doesn’t feel the same after all.

 

—

 

_fast forward: seventeen days later_

and well, those four words. they change everything, dowoon supposes.

 

— 

 

when morning dawns upon the both of them, dowoon shuffles around to face brian and his sleeping face. a five o’clock shadow has begun pricking its way across brian’s chin, above his upper lip; his eyelashes frame the smooth skin there. most of the time, dowoon doesn’t let himself indulge in the other’s beauty for too long, lest his heart shatters just that little more; it’s just that last night harboured too much and not enough for dowoon himself to understand.

unconsciously, his fingers trace the curve of the other’s jawline. he blinks slowly as he drinks in the sight of brian, deep in sleep - that is, until he startles awake.

“oh. morning,” brian murmurs. his voice is thunder rolling around heavy clouds, gravelly and low. he peels his eyes open, a goofy grin framing his lips. dowoon wants to look away, but his eyes don’t seem to listen to his brain; he watches brian carefully as the older wraps an arm around his waist and reels him in tighter.

a hand snakes around to his arm and squeezes his bicep. “cute,” brian teases, squeezing dowoon’s naked bicep again. dowoon’s ears a deep red - and it’s not even eight in the morning yet.

the question is right there, just _there_ on the tip of his tongue (“what did you mean when you said you love me last night?” is all he has to say) but dowoon simply swats brian’s huge hand away, feigning annoyance. in the end, their fingers intertwine and they’re holding hands in mid-air. dowoon ignores the loud thumping of his heart. “c’mon. we agreed to meet the others in time for the cable car.”

brian nuzzles his head back into the pillow, the grip on dowoon’s hand never loosening once. “‘m sleepy.”

“you smell like dried shit. we didn’t clean up.”

“ah, no wonder,” brian chuckles. his morning breath is anything but good, but dowoon finds that endearing enough to allow himself to stay in bed just a little longer, their hands intertwined until his phone blares that godforsaken ringtone with jae on the other line rushing the both of them up and awake.

 

— 

 

_rewind: nine days ago_

no birthday will make brian awake any earlier before eleven in the morning, and thus dowoon has snuck together his band of friends into brian’s house. (well, not really so much as snuck in, rather just ringing the doorbell and having brian’s dad usher them in. still.) they’ve spent at least a good three hours with a mess of seaweed and cake batter all mixed together disgustingly across the kitchen counter, a mess they’ll have to clear up before brian’s mum slaughters them all, but that’s fine, dowoon guesses.

they’ve literally just planted the candle atop the cake (read: poorly made) and bandaged wonpil’s burn from the oven (tears were shed, more from jae than from wonpil himself) when there’s the loud thumping of somebody stomping down the stairs. dowoon’s heart is in his throat as the footsteps near.

brian struts in, his hair fluffy and soft from sleep and the kind that makes dowoon want to pat him back to bed. shirtless, save for the sweatpants frayed at the edges. his heart leaps, bounding from one corner of the room to the next as he musters the courage to yell, “surprise!”

immediately, a cacophony of whistles and whooping ensues. wonpil throws confetti in brian’s face, jae does a noogie on the head, sungjin nods his own head with a proud beam. still groggy from sleep, brian chuckles. “thanks, guys.”

“oh, don’t thank us, thank dowoon,” jae butts in, winking at the younger who flushes a beetroot red. “it was all his doing. we just baked the cake and rolled the sushi.”

“ah,” is all brian says before casting his gaze at dowoon. for a moment, he’s transfixed, watching the grim line of brian’s lips turn upwards into a small smile of gratitude. “thanks, dowoonie.” it’s a soft two words, but soft enough for dowoon to melt into a puddle of gush.

frankly, sushi and cake for brunch is a combination too weird to devour, but it’s brian, and well, anything goes, dowoon supposes. wonpil’s just beginning to beg to feed sungjin a sushi when brian perks up from his slice of sloppy shrek cake. “hey. dowoonie. can i talk to you?”

the abrupt sombreness of brian’s tone silences the party of four. it triggers dowoon’s fight or flight mode almost immediately, sweat practically pouring from his forehead. “well. uh, sure. totally. yeah.” he pushes his chair back, the legs squeaking against the marble tiled floors before following brian out the door, down the hallway into the empty space of his living room.

when brian turns back to look at him, he has his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. the lithe muscles of his arms swell a little, and dowoon finds himself having to tear his eyes away from them. “uh. i know i said it already, but, well. thanks a lot, dowoonie. for, well, y’know.” he pokes his chin out in the direction of the kitchen doorway, a shy smile on his lips. adorable.

“it was literally nothing,” dowoon replies meekly. brian looks at him, as if looking at him for the first time. he looks like he’s got something on the tip of his tongue, but doesn’t say anything.

for a moment, all is silence, save for dowoon’s heart beating against his chest, resonating throughout his ribcage. "brian, i-” his throat constricts him of his words, the question stuck there and lodged there firmly. dammit. where words fail, he supposes, actions speak louder - he takes a tentative step forward and cups brian’s cheek gently, leans in to kiss his lips.

brian’s taken aback - to be fair, dowoon is, too. he’s never been one to initiate, well, whatever he’s having with brian as of now, too scared he’ll regret something; it’s always been brian and his cocky bravado who leans in to kiss dowoon first. surprise eases into a smile on brian’s lips as his hands find dowoon’s waist. he returns the kiss gently, feather-light. it’s chaste at best, but when they pull apart dowoon swears he finds stars in brian’s eyes.

and that’s that. nothing more, nothing less. yet the kiss holds more weight than any other before this. from the look on brian’s face, dowoon’s sure he knows it too. and if he does, brian doesn’t acknowledge it, instead ruffling dowoon’s hair with a grin and shuffling back into the kitchen. he leaves dowoon even more dumbfounded before, with a stuttering heart to match.

 

— 

 

 _fast forward: present day_  

the cable car idea came from sungjin, after much conversation with him. sungjin, though surprised, agreed in the end, patting dowoon on the back and wishing him good luck before striding off. at the moment, he’s standing in line for the cable car to bring them up to the snow-peaked mountain beyond their views, brian beside him.

it’s an eight-seater, but noon finds hardly anyone in the line up to the mountaintops, so sungjin, jae and wonpil find themselves seated with two snowboarders, while dowoon drags brian into a vacant cable car - all to themselves.

brian seats himself down beside dowoon, much to dowoon’s relief - he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to confess himself while staring right into the other’s eyes. the cable car creaks slowly, the automatic doors slowly closing. not too long after, the cable car whizzes up and away, a long way above the crowds of skiers and snowboarders down below.

“wow,” brian murmurs, peering out of the window. beyond them are houses on hills. it hasn’t snowed much in pyeongchang at the end of this year, so brown hills roll by coniferous trees in the distance beyond the ski resort and hotels teeming under the radiant sunshine. against the glass window, the light outlines the curve of brian’s face structure, his strong jaw and pursed lips, his broad self bundled up in a light brown winter jacket.

dowoon chews down on his lower lip, too nervous to admire the view anymore. he twiddles his fingers together. seconds tick into minutes, and as brian continues watching the scenery before them in awe, dowoon’s time is ticking, sand drizzling away into the lower bulb of the hourglass.

about halfway through the journey, as the cable car dips down, dowoon feels an arm snake around his shoulder, reeling him in. his heart begins stammering against his chest, again. he chooses to turn his head the other way when he feels lips graze the shell of his ear. noticing his discomfort, brian pulls back, but leaves his arm round dowoon’s shoulder. “sorry. you okay? you haven’t said anything since we got on.”

“i’m okay,” dowoon mutters. _no_ , he chastises himself. _you’re not backing down. not today._ “actually no, i’m not.” he steels himself to peer up and stare at brian square in the eye. brian’s eyes sparkle, diamonds set into darkness. “i just… can i ask you something?”

brian quirks an eyebrow. “well, yeah. sure. shoot.”

dowoon inhales sharply, exhales slowly. “what is this to you?”

the words he’s been longing to say, they’re out. for a split second dowoon regrets saying them aloud, but swallows down his nerves one last time as he fixes his stare on brian. brian blinks, confusion scribbled across his face. “what do you mean, dowoonie?”

“what is this to you? this, well…” dowoon’s voice trails off as he struggles to find the words. he gulps again. “when we kissed that night at the party, what was that to you?”

brian’s eyes seem to pierce a hole through dowoon’s shaky ones. “why do you ask?”

“well,” dowoon bites down on his lower lip. this is driving him crazy. “i-”

all of a sudden, the cable car creaks to a halt. surprised, the both of them spring apart, before staring out the window. beyond them, the cable cars shake slightly in the frosty breeze. a robotic voice comes over the speakers. _“there has been a slight operational problem with the cable cars. it will be fixed in about ten minutes. we are sorry for any inconveniences.”_

startled, dowoon’s eyes spring back to brian’s - he’s still looking at dowoon, a silent prayer for him to _go on._

the younger maintains his composure, breathing in, then out. for some reason, some gods in the high heavens have spared him time, precious time, for an honest answer, and by _god_ would he be stupid to let it slip away from him like this. “i like you. i _have_ liked you for a long time now. i like you even though you sometimes treat me like your younger brother, even though you’re kinda messy and always sleeping and a procrastinator, even though you’re hot-headed and oblivious to everything going on around you. i like you for your flaws and your perfections. i want you to want me the way i want you. and i _need_ you,” dowoon chokes up a little here, “to need me to stay, and not throw me away the second college is over and we part ways. i don’t want you to see this as some sort of, i don’t know, a friends-with-benefits thing. if you don’t feel a thing, or if you don’t know, just, well.” dowoon peers down at his shoes. “then you should just let me go.”

heat rushes to his cheeks just like that. he’s spat it out. it’s been too far of a push-pull anyhow, up to the point - like mentioned, he wants clarity. he _needs_ clarity.

a forefinger pushes his chin up and brian gazes at him, a soft smile on his lips. “i meant what i said last night.”

_what?_

brian notices the surprise on dowoon’s face. “i meant it. i’m sorry for not being forward about it,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss the other’s lips, chapped from the dry air. “i like you a lot too, y’know, maybe as far as loving you. i love your determination and your kindness and the way you’ve stuck by me this whole time even though i’m kinda stupid at times. and well, i’m sorry for that night at the party,” brian winces a little. “that shirt was pretty hot.”

“so all i had to do was wear a see-through shirt for you to kiss me?” dowoon taunts, but his ears are flushed red.

“well. and a couple of shots, i guess,” brian shrugs. “i didn’t know how else was i supposed to tell you in the end. i… it’s my last year of college anyways, but i was too scared to tell you aloud, lest you reject me and i ruin the remaining time of our friendship.”

dowoon nods his head slowly. “y’know… you’re kinda stupid.”

“ _you’re_ kinda stupid,” brian laughs. “did you really overthink what i said last night?”

“well!” dowoon sputters, just as the cable car begins creaking to a start again. they’re higher above the treetops now, and beyond that is a sea of brown rolling over hills, wind turbines specks of white in the far distance. and beyond that, a clear blue sky, spotless and devoid of clouds, giving way for the sunshine filtering through the frosted glass of the little cable car. “people say stuff when they fuck, i’ve heard.”

brian laughs again, that boyish laugh dowoon will never get tired of, as he leans in to press kisses on dowoon’s lips. the younger pretends to pout, then screeches when brian places his hands on dowoon’s hips and pulls him in his own lap. the sound of fabric against fabric, the static in the air, is loud, but dowoon’s heartbeat is louder when brian leans in to nuzzle their noses together, eskimo-style. “well, i guess i do,” he whispers low, waits until dowoon leans in to rid the space between them.

the second their lips touch, dowoon sighs into it. this boy, this love of his teenage life, might just be dowoon’s dumbest and brightest decision in all his eighteen years of living. still, he’s not one to complain when he’s literally right in brian’s lap and receiving trails of kisses down his neck. he whines when brian sucks the dollop of skin just under his adam’s apple. “brian…”

“dowoonie.” brian peppers the blooming hickey there with the softest of kisses, his hands beginning to slip under the winter jacket and sweatshirt dowoon has on. his hands skim his back, his abdomen, leaving dowoon wriggling around from the tickles.

the sound of the doors creaking open startle them apart, and when they peer out they find the cable car already pulling to a slow rhythm near the landing platform, and on the platform stand their three friends, gazing at them. wonpil gasps dramatically, jae folds his arms across his chest and sungjin wears a bemused, unsurprised expression. “you _do_ know that you’re fogging up the cable car right?” jae tsks as dowoon meekly stumbles out of the car.

the pair of them stare back at the glass. sure enough, the glass windows are all fogged up, misty from the intense heat of their kisses. “ah,” dowoon breathes sheepishly, red splotching his cheeks. he hides his face in his hands, whereas brian steps out with a booming laugh.

“why, jae? jealous that you didn’t think of getting it on in a cable car with strangers watching?” brian taunts, wrapping an arm around dowoon’s waist and pulling him close. when the older glimpses down at dowoon, dowoon thinks he’s _finally_ caught brian where he really wants him, where he really needs him.

  


**Author's Note:**

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